


Jonathan Harkers descent into madness

by Wenesday_Addams



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: Accidental summoning, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bisexual Johnathan Harker, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Ritual, Descent into Madness, Dracula - Freeform, F/M, Gay Male Character, Gentle Sex, Ghost Sex, Insanity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Resurrection, Sacrifice, Transylvania, Vampires, Witchcraft, black magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-27 10:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18193361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wenesday_Addams/pseuds/Wenesday_Addams
Summary: A story that  Jonathan told me and letters the Harkers sent. Mr. Harker requested that this never make it to publish. - Stoker





	1. Sparks of madness

**Author's Note:**

> I used google translate for the Romanian and latin so if I misspelled anything please let me know. Translations will be at the end for those of us who don't speak or read Romanian. –Wednesday Addams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used google translate for the Romanian because I do not speak the language. If anyone does and sees mistakes, please let me know -Wenesday

_"Noi suntem creaturile pe care le-am creat_. 

Those were the first words written in the journal on the table, that a trembling Jonathan Harker read. Fear and adrenaline coursed through Jonathan's system, causing him to flicker like the candlesticks in the golden candelabra he was holding. This was caused by a draft from a shattered window. The carpathians were visible, bathed in silver moonlight and rolling fog. Panting slightly he set down the golden candelabra on the desk that the open journal was on, as the adrenaline was wearing off.

"Oh Mina. Forgive me." Jonathan nearly cried out. He never should have some here, not to this room, not to this castle, not even to Transylvania. He never should have even accepted this job in the first place. This room, the first place he could think of to escape those women. the second he stepped across the stone threshold, the women backed off. Why?

Looking around he noticed something odd, compared to most of the castle. It was pristine, untouched even by the ruin the thad overtaken most of the castle. The room looked as if the person who had lived here, would return at any moment, if one ignored the thick layer of dust and massive cobwebs that covered everything. Shaking slightly, he once again picked up the candelabra and the journal along with it. He set the candelabra upon the bedside table, carved from cherrywood perhaps? Then as he sat down on the red silk sheets, a cloud of dust rose, causing him to have a coughing fit. 

Carefully he flipped through the old book, handling the pages as if they might crumble to dust. Soon he managed to find the page he had first seen. Continuing to read it was a bit of a challenge as his romanian was rudimentary at best, and the local dialect did not help.  _"Putem trăi fără moarte? Putem iubi fără ură? Putem să ne dorim fără nevoie? Am căzut din nou."_ Though the last line had been scratched out.  _"Chiar trăim cu adevărat viețile noastre suficient pentru a aprecia că nu putem niciodată să înțelegem cu adevărat una fără cealaltă? Că un concept nu are nici un sens fără o forță opusă. Dacă ură este ceea ce este în noi. Apoi ura este ceea ce ne definește. Sunt mai mult înăuntrul meu."_ Again the last line was crossed out.  _" Și vom folosi ură pentru a ne conduce. Suntem blestemați."_  Suntem blestemați, who was this person talking about?  _"Și moartea să nu ne lipsească. Vrem acest lucru sau avem nevoie de asta?"_ Jonathan knew he should stop, yet curiostiy compelled him to keep reading. 

At the bottom of the page a sentence was scrawled messily, unlike the neat cursive in the rest of the journal.  _"Puteți clăti întotdeauna suprafața, dar pata va rămâne."_ You can always rinse the surface, but the stain will remain. Who or what is the writer talking about? And what were all the symbols drawn on the sides of the pages. Jonathan knew it might be a bad idea, yet he had to keep reading, so he turned the page. Blood stained the page, though the words were still visible.  _"M-au adus. Familia mea e moartă. În curând voi sânge și trebuie să fug de biserică. Dacă mor înainte să o fac înăuntru, spuneți aceste cuvinte, ca să mă întorc."_ For some reason he felt a compulsion to read the next words scrawled down. The moment the first word formed at his lips, a freezing cold swept over him, despite the room having been fairly warm moments earlier. A moan caught in Jonathan's throat, as ghostly hands drifted down his torso and to his groin. 

Stuttering a bit, he managed to complete the page, and as the last syllable left his lip, his back arched and his eyes faintly glowed. Wind once again blew through the room, causing the candles to flicker and rise. As they reached their peak, Jonathan Harker's eyes glowed a brilliant lilac, and the room seemed to spin. The book dropped from his hands and he collapsed onto the bed, as everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> noi suntem creaturile pe care le-am creat = We are the creatures we have created  
> Putem trăi fără moarte = Can we live without death  
> Putem iubi fără ură = Can we love without hate  
> Putem să ne dorim fără nevoie = Can we want without need  
> Am căzut din nou = I've fallen once again  
> Chiar trăim cu adevărat viețile noastre suficient pentru a aprecia că nu putem niciodată să înțelegem cu adevărat una fără cealaltă? = Do we really ever live our lives enough to appreciate that we can never truly grasp one without the other?  
> Că un concept nu are nici un sens fără o forță opusă = That a concept has no meaning without an opposing force  
> Dacă ură este ceea ce este în noi  
> Apoi ura este ceea ce ne definește =If hate is what's inside us. Then hate is what defines us  
> Sunt mai mult înăuntrul meu = There's more inside of me  
> Și vom folosi ură pentru a ne conduce = And we will use our hate to drive us  
> suntem blestemați = We are the damned  
> Și moartea să nu ne lipsească = And let death not deprive us  
> Vrem acest lucru sau avem nevoie de asta = Do we want this or do we need this  
> Puteți clăti întotdeauna suprafața, dar pata va rămâne = You can always rinse the surface but the stain will remain  
> M-au adus. Familia mea e moartă. În curând voi sânge și trebuie să fug de biserică. Dacă mor înainte să o fac înăuntru, spuneți aceste cuvinte, ca să mă întorc. = They have gotten me. My family is dead. I will soon bleed out, and must flee to the church. If I die before I make it inside, speak these words so I may come back.


	2. Dearest Mina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A unsent letter from Jonathan to his fiancée Mina Murray. -Stoker

_Dearest Mina,_

_Something happened last night, something troubling. It has shaken me to my very core. Mina my love, I must confess something._ _ Something I have buried deep inside, ever since I was a little boy.  _ _ I love you, rest assured I do, the is an undeniable lust for men. I have done everything to rid myself of these desires, and for years it has worked. Yet last night, last night re-awoke those desires, and I am terrified. I do not know how it was unleashed, and I dread the answer. _

  _Mina, last night I disobeyed the Counts order to not explore the rest of the castle. The place was in ruin, vines were everywhere, and there were holes in the floor with boards over them. The further I explored, the more the stench of decay and death grew, to be overpowering. All I had to guide me was a candelabra, which barely lit the way. My love, surprisingly this decrepit place was inhabited. Inhabited by three strange women._ _They chased me throughout the castle, and thus sought refuge in a room. This room Mina, there is something queer about it, for as soon as I stepped across the threshold, they fled._

_ Mina _ _ , the room I was in was pristine compared to the rest of the place I had explored. It was as if it had been untouched by anything, even by time, if one ignores the massive cobwebs and thick layer of dust. It looked as if the one who lived there would return at any moment, not to mention there was an inkwell and open book.  _ _ I do not know why, cannot explain why I read it. Perhaps I was just curious.  _

_ The writing was in old romanian, in the local dialect; this coupled with my rudimentary grasp of romanian made it hard to read. The next page, oh the next page look as if it was from a Jack the Ripper crime scene. It was soaked in blood, yet the words were still visible. There was more romanian, then latin. Mina, for some strange reason I felt a compulsion to read it, and I did. As the first word passed my lips, I felt as if ghostly hands were running up and down my torso, to down there. As I finished, Mina this is when whatever had repressed that sin broke. A freezing wind seemed to blow through the room, the candles flickered and seemed to rise sharply. I must have convulsed and collapsed on the bed. _

_ I had a dream. Once I collapsed I saw a man. Mina I would be lying if I said I was not attracted to him. He had long black hair that fell like a silken waterfall, flawless pale skin. He had high cheekbones and a strong aristocratic jaline. He and the Count look as if they are father and son. Then the dream became well…. we had an amorous congress. When I awoke today I was in my own bed, untouched, save for soiled pajamas and a single purple mark upon my neck. There was also a note on the bedside table. I will transcribe it here for you. _

_ “Mr. Harker, I am glad you are safe. However I must ask you to cease your exploration of the castle. It is falling into disrepair, and would be dangerous for you to continue. I thank you for your understanding.” _

_ Mina I hope to come home soon, and leave this incident behind. I love you. _

_ – Jonathan _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amores congress = Sex. It's an 1800s euphemism for sex.


End file.
